Cups of Tea
by M'rika
Summary: 'For every piece of news that an English person receives, their response is to switch the kettle on. This holds true for Remus Lupin. I can't promise you that it is all good news, but it isn't all bad.'
1. Part I: Seven to Sixteen

Cups of Tea

Part I: Seven to Sixteen

There is something very English about hot drinks. It's not that they have a monopoly on them. Of course not. Tea comes from China, hot chocolate comes from Africa (at least, the cocoa beans do) and coffee comes from…well, I'm not entirely sure, but it's definitely not England. No, the reason hot drinks are so English is that for every piece of news that an English person receives, their response is to switch the kettle on. This holds true for Remus Lupin. I'd like to say that it was always good news that caused him to reach for the kettle. I can't promise you that, but it isn't all bad.

][[][][][][][][][

Remus Lupin could only reach the kettle if he stood on a stool, and he wasn't meant to do that. His mother was worried that he might scald himself on the water. Of course, this was no ordinary day. Today was the day he was going to be cured. Today was the day the healer was going to tell them that there had been some breakthrough and now he wouldn't have to transform every month.

The healer was talking to his parents now, in the front room, while he waited in the living room, sitting on the sofa, pretending to read a book about dinosaurs. It was when he heard a sob that he went into the kitchen stood on the stool and filled the kettle.

"Remus." His dad had appeared in the doorway, watching his son struggle with a full kettle. "Can you come here for a minute?"

Silently, the little boy left the kettle on the side, got down off the stool and trudged towards his dad, who kneeled down, to be at eye level with his son. "There hasn't been any breakthrough," his dad said softly. "It was all just rumours. I'm really sorry." He pulled his son into an embrace, and didn't let him go even when a small voice said, "Shall I put the kettle on?"

][[][][][][][][][

"Remus! Remus!"

He pushed himself off his bed, and hurried to the top of the stairs. He couldn't tell if his mom sounded angry or hurt. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong recently. There was the vase he'd broken by accident, but his dad had fixed it, so it couldn't be that. "Yes?"

He couldn't see his mom, until she stuck her head over the banister and looked up. There was a strange expression on her face, which he didn't understand until she said, "You've got a letter."

His mouth fell open and he trudged down the stairs like he was going to his execution. He was waiting to hear from Hogwarts; to see if he'd been accepted. He wasn't expecting them to say yes. Surely he was a danger, a liability. He was prepared for a rejection. So when the letter began with _Dear Mr Lupin, we are pleased to offer you a place_, he beamed at his mom; it's warmth dispelling her anxiety. "I'll put the kettle on."

][[][][][][][][][

"Excuse me?" The eleven year old Sirius Black had perfected his glare. After years of watching his three cousins use it to good effect, he had added it to his facial repertoire. "What did you say?"

"I said he's a book-loving loser." The Slytherin boy quailed slightly at the full force of the Black glare, but stood his ground.

"I'm sorry, say that one more time," Sirius said calmly.

"I **said**," the boy spat out, flashing a contemptuous glance at the mousy haired boy who looked shell-shocked. It wasn't the name calling; he was used to that; it was that someone was standing up for him. "I **said**, Black, that he's a book-loving loser. And what's more, he's a halfblood. A filthy blood traitor. Just like your cousin."

If it were possible Sirius' glare grew even steelier. "Firstly," he said languidly, "Andy is my favourite cousin, so I would leave her out of this. And secondly-" He drew his wand, a hex hitting the other boy so quickly Remus almost missed it, "he's **our** book-loving loser. So back the hell off."

"Mr Black!" The sound of a professor's voice echoed down the corridor. As Sirius was thoroughly shouted at, Remus tried to gather himself. He had friends. Friends who defended him. He'd never had friends like that before. He felt the occasion warranted a cup of tea.

][[][][][][][][][

"We know." James' voice was flat and brooked no argument. Of course, if Remus knew what he was talking about he may have had a better idea why he shouldn't argue. He slowly put his charms textbook down and eyed his friends warily. They were all there, James, Sirius and Peter, standing in front of him looking like a particularly young trio of unhappy superheroes. James looked grim, Sirius looked uncomfortable and Peter looked scared. A prickle of worry ran down Remus' spine. He thought he'd been careful, he thought he'd explained away his illness. But from the looks on their faces he hadn't done it well enough.

"Know what?" He had the presence of mind to at least bluff, in case whatever it was wasn't what he thought it was.

"That you're a - That once a - About your furry little problem," James finally got a sentence out, and the phrase he used made a grin twitch into life on Sirius' face.

"Oh." Remus' face fell. He looked at the floor, wondering if scrambling across to the other side of his bed to escape through the dormitory door was a viable plan.

"Remus we don't care," James burst out. "You're our mate. So what if you're a bit bloodthirsty once a month? You've seen Sirius in the mornings."

"Hey!" Sirius made a cursory pretence at offence, before nodding. "Yeah, it's true."

Remus didn't say anything. He was sure they were winding him up. No-one could know what he was and still want to be friends with him.

"Remus." Sirius pushed past James and knelt in front of the silent boy. "Seriously. We don't care. As long as we can still copy your homework, we're not bothered."

"Yeah," Peter finally spoke. "And, and, and we're gonna work on something to help."

Remus dared to look up. "What?"

James smiled. "We got the idea from McGonnagall. Remember the first lesson this year?"

"Animagi," Remus breathed, "But that's really dangerous. You can't-"

"It's no more dangerous than hiding James' shampoo," Sirius grinned, standing up again.

"That was you?" James almost yelled. "I've been blaming Amos."

As the banter continued, Remus allowed himself a smile and a glance at the brazier in the centre of the dorm, where a kettle was just beginning to boil.

][[][][][][][][][

"What the hell was wrong with your broom?" Now at sixteen, Sirius had long hair and a glint in his eye that seemed to draw the girls. Of course, he wasn't employing it at that precise moment because he was too busy berating his best friend. "How did Black manage to get to the snitch before you?"

"I had a bad game," James snapped, as they walked through the common room. "It happens." There was a pause before he added, "And it's really weird when you refer to your brother by his last name."

"He's not my brother anymore," Sirius retorted. "I don't exist in his head anymore."

James rolled his eyes, pushing the door to their dormitory open, whatever reply he'd formed dying on his lips. The room smelt like peppermint, something that didn't happen very often. As the room was shared by three boys, the overwhelming scent was usually of sock. Peppermint meant peppermint tea, and peppermint tea meant something terrible had happened.

"Moons?" Their argument forgotten in an instant, the two boys scanned the room for traces of their friend. It seemed empty and James simply said, "I'll go to the library."

Sirius didn't turn around as James left, but slowly walked towards Remus' bed. There was an untouched cup of tea on the bedside table, and a letter on the floor. The fact it was on the floor wasn't unusual, most of their belongings ended up on the floor at some time, but it was crumpled up. Remus never screwed letters up, he kept them in a box in his trunk, so why was this one abandoned on the floor? He bent down to pick it up, smoothing it out.

_Remus. _

_I'm sorry that I've got to tell you this, but your mother died yesterday. You dad assures me that you can come home for the funeral; that he's written to your headteacher. I'm so sorry that this has happened to you._

_I'll see you when you get home._

_Aunt Sal._

Sirius sank down onto Remus' bed. His mom had died. Remus' mom was dead. No wonder he'd made peppermint tea. Sirius froze as he remembered something Remus had once said. _Peppermint makes me feel safe. My mom always drinks it. It reminds me of her._ No wonder the mug was untouched. Sirius got to his feet. He needed to find Remus. He needed to comfort his friend.


	2. Part II: Seventeen to Twentyone

Part II: Seventeen to Twenty-one

"We are wanted!" This yell was one of many. It was the end of exams, there were only a few weeks left until the summer, and James, Sirius and Lily had all received letters from the ministry, telling them that they had been accepted as trainee Aurors, starting from the coming September. It was four in the morning but their private party was still going on. There was an abundance of firewhiskey and vodka, courtesy of the Hogwarts kitchens and the stash they had in their trunks that was replenished every holiday. "We are beloved!"

"Pipe down Prongs," Sirius laughed, as James danced round their dormitory. "You'll wake Wormy."

Peter had fallen asleep about an hour ago, his hand clasped around an empty bottle. His problem was that he tried to match James and Sirius drink for drink. Sirius had been drinking since an early age, what with there being no lock on the drinks cabinet at his parents' house, and James just managed to stay upright through sheer bloody mindedness. Lily was usually fairly sensible, but tonight she'd drunk so much, she wasn't sure which way was up.

"But we're beloved by the Ministry," James protested, swaying as he walked towards Sirius, jabbing a finger to make his point. "The Ministry wants us! They love us. In fact," he sat down on the floor with a thud, reaching for the closest bottle, "I would go as far to say that we got in on pure good looks."  
"Not talent?" Sirius drawled.

"Well, unless your interview included some _physical_ examination that ours didn't, I'd have to say looks," James replied, a leer on his face.

"Sirius Black never has to use his sexual prowess to get anything," Sirius told his friend, with a lofty air.

"But he does use it," Remus cut in, passing a mug of coffee to Lily. He'd had to go down to the kitchens to get it, because his personal stock didn't include coffee. He was tea man, through and through.

"Well it'd be no fun if I didn't ever get to use my natural skill," Sirius grinned, standing up to throw an arm around Remus' shoulders. "And you love it."

Remus laughed, reaching for the tea he'd left on the side. "Of course," he replied with a smile. "Being hit on by you is the highlight of my day."

"Hey!" James made a noise or protest.

"I'm sorry," Remus teased. "Being hit on by both of you is the highlight of my day."

"S'better," James nodded, passing him a bottle. "Make that tea Irish."

Remus looked at the label and smiled. "When you pass me the whiskey I will."

"So if you add vodka, does that make it Russian?" Sirius wondered out loud, as James retook up his cry of "We are wanted!"

][[][][][][][][][

"Move in with me."

"What?" Sirius' statement had startled him, as he hadn't realised that his friend was in the room. Remus turned from his trunk to see his shaggy haired friend standing in the doorway.

"Move in with me." Sirius crossed to sit down on Remus' bed. "It'd be fun."

Remus shot him a half smile. "I'm going back to my parents," he said. "I told you."

"Yes, but now I'm telling you I want you to come to London and live with me." There was a grin on Sirius' face, but he sounded serious.

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus replied, slotting his socks into the little space that was left in his trunk.

"Why do you always say that?" Sirius asked, assuming a hurt expression. "You know it'd be amazing. We'd have a laugh. What's waiting for you at home that's better than me?"

Though the question was big headed, that wasn't what flummoxed Remus. What did he have waiting for him at home? There was nothing to look forward to, he'd be living with his parents again, he'd be struggling to find a job and all his friends would be in London; far, far away. "There's no way I can pay you rent," he said finally, closing his trunk.

"I don't want you to pay rent," Sirius said, his exasperation clear. "I want you to come to London with us. I want you to make the flat smell of raspberries and lemon and smoke because of all the weird tea you drink. I want you to complain about the mess I make in the kitchen. I want you to have fun with us."

There was silence for a moment, until finally Remus managed to meet Sirius' eyes. "Do my drinks really smell that much?"

Sirius laughed, bounding round to Remus to pull him into a hug. "So you'll come?"

"Yes." Remus smiled. "But I will pay rent. When I get a job."

Sirius grinned. "Well, there's other ways you can show your gratitude, if you're that eager." His eyes flashed, and Remus laughed, pushing his friend.

"Yeah, I think paying rent will be just fine."

][[][][][][][][][

It was a second-hand shop, tucked away in a forgotten part of London. It inhabited a ramshackle old house, which meant that you were forever traipsing down stairs or finding a room that you had never seen before. In some respects, it reminded him of Hogwarts, except the stairs never moved; it just felt like they did. He used to spend hours in there; those long hours while his friends were at the ministry learning to fight evil. There were no magical books, which meant he spent his time flicking through Latin books that schoolboys had once scrawled in and history books with a vital page missing. But he loved it in there. He would browse for ages, not usually buying anything. With no job, what little gold he had was earmarked for food and rent. And the occasional mug. Sirius was always breaking mugs: it was like he was incapable of holding them without dropping them. And Remus needed mugs. What would he have to drink out of if there were no mugs left? You couldn't drink tea out of a glass, it was sacrilege.

"Hey." The woman who was normally behind the counter was smiling at him. "You're back again."

He smiled bashfully. "Yeah."

"We got some new schoolbooks in," she told him, gesturing to a cardboard box on the side. "If you've nothing else to do, do you wanna help me check there's not too many obscenities?"

He shrugged. "I've nowhere else to be."

They were worked in companionable silence for the best part of an hour, before she half asked, half said, "You don't have a job, do you?"

"No," he admitted. He met her eyes. "I haven't got a criminal record," he added hurriedly. "I guess I just look unemployable."

She laughed and considered him. "Not to me. Do you want a job?"

"Really?" His enthusiasm surprised even him, but he had been getting desperate. He nearly hadn't made last month's rent, and Sirius' alternative payment scheme seemed to include too much interest for his liking.

"Can't pay you much, but I reckon you'll do alright. I'm pretty sure you know your way around here better than I do."

He grinned thankfully at her. "When do you want me to start?"  
"Now?" She smiled. "There's a kettle through that door. Tea, two sugars."

][[][][][][][][][

"A baby?" Sirius asked stupidly. "But…you're young! And, and, and you won't be able to drink at my birthday!"

James laughed at his friend's bafflement. "Yeah, well, it's now or never isn't it? What with You Know Who gathering support we could di-" He stopped in the middle of the sentence, and cleared his throat. "Well, you know."

"That's not going to happen," Sirius said roughly, pulling his friend into a hug.

Remus had been quiet until Lily turned to him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded his head, looking deep in thought. "Congratulations." His voice was low, like he didn't trust it not to betray his feelings.

"Really?" Lily took his hand and squeezed it. "Remus, it's okay not to be happy."

"No, I am. Really." He forced a smile. "I'll go and put the kettle on."

He was leaning against the side in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, when Sirius came in. "Mate, are you okay?"

Remus nodded, turning his head away. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Moons." Sirius came to stand next to him. "I know it's weird, and stuff's going to change, but I guess it'll be okay in the end."

"S'not." His words were muffled, as Remus angrily wiped his eyes.

"Moons. Hey, come on," Sirius laughed slightly. "We're amazing. We're the best Aurors they've ever had. Cocky, maybe, big-headed, definitely, but we're good."  
"You don't get it," Remus said quietly. "The lists of the dead aren't getting any shorter, and you guys aren't ready. You haven't finished your training, however good you think you are. But every time there's an Auror dead, you guys are closer to being sent out on your own, ready or not. It's a fucking war Sirius."

"You think we don't know that?" Sirius asked softly. "Every time I walk out that door, I think maybe I won't see you again. That maybe this is the last time you yell at me for breaking a mug. When I get to work, I think maybe it's the last time I tease James about his hair. Maybe it's the last time I tell Lily it's not to late to change her mind and run away with me. We know it's dangerous. Honest, Moons."

Remus studied the floor. "I just don't think they should have a kid when one day they might not come back."

Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus' shoulder. "If they die, then one of us gets the kid. We could teach it to eat chocolate first, vegetables last. Teach it to throw mud at passing strangers." He grinned. "I'd be such a good dad."

Remus had to smile. "I pity the kid that ends up with you."

Sirius hugged his friend. "I'd be an awesome dad, and you know it. Now go and tell James that he will be too." He nodded towards the door. "They worry about you."

Remus cast a glance at the kettle. "Not as much as I worry about them."

][[][][][][][][][

"No. No, there must be some mistake." Remus was clutching the phone so tightly his knuckles had turned white. "No, he would never."

The room seemed empty without Sirius in it. It was a Saturday morning; right about now he should be wandering into the living room, moaning about how he was never going to drink again, and would Remus please make him a bacon sandwich? When Remus refused, Sirius would wheel out the puppy dog eyes and Remus would cave, even going to the shop if they were out of brown sauce. But this was no ordinary Saturday. This was a Saturday that Remus would never forget.

"They were his best friends," he almost yelled. "Why the fuck would he betray them?"

Whatever the caller replied, Remus didn't hear it because he slammed the phone down so hard it shattered, the casing falling off to reveal a tangle of wiring. Fuck. Sirius would never, he couldn't, there was no way he was the spy. No, he couldn't be.

Remus got as far as the kitchen, but even before he'd reached the kettle, he'd punched the wall. It was stupid thing to do because now, in addition to his heart breaking, his hand hurt like hell. As he sat down on the floor, tears of frustration and anger spilling over.

How could Sirius? They were his best friends. He was their son's fucking godfather. And why go after Peter? Why not kill Remus? It would have been easier. And Sirius would never have been so stupid as to attempt murder in a street full of people. At least, not the Sirius he thought he knew. Maybe this was how he'd been all along. Maybe their entire friendship was based on lies. Maybe he'd been planning this for ages.

][[][][][][][][][

The funeral had been over the top. People who'd barely known them turned up, claiming to have been best friends with them, rubber necking. He'd sat in the front row, where Sirius and Peter should have been, along with James' parents, a space next to them where Lily's sister should have been. He couldn't believe her reaction when he'd turned up on her doorstep. She'd sneered at him like he was scum. She'd refused to let him see Harry. She'd turned her nose up at his explanation of the funeral. And she hadn't come.

He didn't cry. Not when Dumbledore read a poem. Not when he'd read the eulogy. Not when they buried his best friends. Other people cried. Other people wept. Not him. He felt dead inside. It was like someone had taken his worst nightmare and pushed it to the edge of reason. Three of his best friend's were dead, and the fourth might as well be.

The wake was ordinary enough. Mad eye Moody was there, but Remus couldn't face him. If he'd never accepted Remus' friends onto the Auror training programme, none of this would have happened. People he didn't recognise offered him their condolences. People he did know tried not to cry. People who should have known better reminisced about their days at Hogwarts.

It was only in the kitchen, with steam rising from the kettle, did he feel at home. But even then each mug reminded him of the ones Sirius had broken. The fancy organic tea in the cupboard reminded him of Lily's face when she'd tried it. The magnet of the fridge reminded him of James on the beach in Cornwall. He looked round at his last safe place in horror, realising that he'd lost that as well. He listened as the kettle came to the boil, and he wondered if he'd ever feel right again.


End file.
